The Beach
by Mochi-girl
Summary: Beaches, books & bikinis? Originally posted under a different name. I deleted it, some minor adjustments and I am reposting. One-shot.


This story is strictly for entertainment purposes and contains mature sexual content. It is parents responsibility to monitor their childrens' internet use, not mine. I do not claim any of the characters from Fringe as mine.

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If it were not for an occasional breeze that fluttered across them and the large umbrella stuck in the sand shading them, the sun might have seemed oppressive, as they lay on the secluded beach. It was odd, not odd but maybe a stroke of good luck that they found this stretch of unoccupied white sand, but Peter wasn't one to question good luck.

Olivia lay on her stomach propped up on her arms, a novel open in her hands, she finished the chapter and folded the corner of the page down to bookmark her place before setting it aside and resting her head on her crossed arms.

"You're not bored with it, are you?" Peter rolled over on his side and supported his head in his hand. He was shirtless, his skin warmed and bronzed from the sun. His shoulders seemed wider than she remembered and she felt small next to him.

"Oh no, it's quite engaging, I didn't think I could enjoy a mystery but this is just different enough to make it more interesting. It's fascinating to think that a journalist and a punk-rock girl could solve a murder, and in Sweden of all places." She sighed contentedly. "This was a very good idea, but somehow, it seems almost too good to be true."

Peter's eyes twinkled as he smiled down on her. "Don't question it Agent Dunham, reality will rear its ugly head again. Enjoy the moment."

"Yes, that part isn't too good to be true… reality, I mean." She smiled up at him. "This is the first real time off I've had since I joined the Bureau. I wasn't sure I would enjoy it." She wrinkled up her nose. "That must seem silly to you."

"Not at all, but I am surprised you agreed to this little excursion. It's 72 hours, but that's more than enough time to recharge our batteries." He chuckled, remembering the look on her face when she saw the plane tickets in his hand.

Olivia laughed to herself. "I didn't even own a bathing suit, except for the one I swim laps in. I had to guess at the size, this isn't listed in the FBI dress code."

"I'd say you did pretty well." He looked at the shiny metallic material, more interested in the body inside of it, than the bikini itself.

"Peter hand me the sunscreen will you?" She reached out for it, but instead of handing it to her he sat up next to her prone body.

"Let me, just relax." He twisted the top off and squeezed a dollop of cream into his hand and after dropping the tube in his lap, he placed his hand on her lower back, smoothing the lavender scented sunscreen on her bare skin.

When he saw her pull the white tunic off over her head, revealing a very skimpy black bikini, he had almost held his breath. She was the most desirable woman he had ever met, not just for her well-toned body and smooth pale skin, but for the way she seemed utterly comfortable with herself, sitting on a blanket next to him, unassuming and oblivious to her beauty, intelligence and courage.

"Do you mind?" She asked reaching around to unfasten the band to her top.

"What do you think?" He chuckled as he made his way up her back and between her shoulder blades, stroking and spreading the sunscreen around.

"I think that your large hands are perfect for this kind of work."

"And, I think you are a very beautiful creature."

The intimacy of the moment seemed so natural for them, the baggage and barriers that keep two people apart had disappeared. She rolled to her side, holding her top up over her breasts and looked up at him, as if to see if he were serious or not, but the look in his eyes told her what she needed to know.

"Liv, I don't want to spoil what we have between us and I don't want you to know how worthless I really am. You don't have to…"

"Peter, stop. Don't say anything else. No more words. I've heard a lifetime of explanations." She searched his face for truth and saw it in his eyes, his feelings genuine, his concern authentic.

Olivia pushed herself up to sit next to him, dropping the top of her bikini at the same time. She silently asked for his touch and he complied, cupping the side of her face in his hand and bending toward her, his lips finding hers.

Their first kiss was gentle, not hurried or illicit, but caring and sensual. He drew back for a moment, and as if their actions were choreographed, they came together again, letting their lips part and their tongues mingle with each other.

"Lay down." He whispered and he eased her back with his large frame and stretched out next to her. "You're perfect." He murmured, caressing her breasts, feeling her taut nipples under his palms, watching her breath become ragged as he stroked her smooth skin.

She reached for him, urging him to cover her like a thick quilt, wanting to feel his weight on her, the desire they both felt washing over them.

"Peter…" She whispered between kisses. He nuzzled her neck and throat and kissed her collarbone, making his way down to her breasts, taking one tight pink nipple into his mouth and feeling her writhe under him.

Olivia tangled her hands in his hair, her eyes closed at the beautiful assault on her senses. She felt more alive at that very moment than anything she had experienced. Maybe knowing how volatile their lives had become and how circumstances and beliefs could change in an instance was the reason, whatever it was, she allowed herself to be swallowed by their mutual passion.

She took the initiative and rolled them over, he on his back she straddling him, her hair had come undone from the loose ponytail she wore and cascaded around her face and shoulders.

Peter smiled at her assertive behavior. "I love a bossy FBI Agent," he said looking up at her. Olivia planted her hands on either side of his head and bent down to kiss him, sliding and straightening her body out on top of him. He closed his eyes at the sensation of her curves fitting against him like two puzzle pieces. "I love you Olivia," he whispered under his breath.

"Peter… " She called out to him. Suddenly the sunlight darkened and the air around them grew frigid. He could feel her drifting away from him, slipping out of his grasp, and he opened his eyes with a start.

"Peter, wake up, you're dreaming… are you all right?" Olivia sat next to him in the black SUV, her hand on his shoulder. "You were moaning in your sleep… were you having a bad dream?"

He straightened himself up and rubbed his face with his hands. He felt disoriented and wanted the other reality, not this one, where they were sitting in her vehicle at a stake-out. He shook his head trying to come to terms with what he felt opposed to where they really were. "Yeah, I was dreaming… sorry."

"Don't apologize, here..." She handed him a bottled water and looked at him reassuringly. In her own head she repeated the words he mumbled while sleeping. _I love you Olivia._

"...everything's all right, I know how you feel, you were dreaming."


End file.
